Pretty Cure Perfect Stage
by Tabby Kattene
Summary: When the last of the Realm of Wings' shrine maidens is kidnapped, it's up to four teenagers from the World of Stages to put on a lovely show and save the day!
1. At Rise, A Pretty Cure!

With one pink paw wrapped around the sacred piece of cloth, Uta tilted her head up to face the dark, stormy sky and prayed.

"They say that we perform for the gods," she started, her high voice broken and cracked in desperation and terror. "If that is so, please, gods, call upon the most heavenly of you, the Divine Playwrights themselves, to give us a happy ending."

She waited for a response. As one of the eight shrine maidens in the Realm of Wings, sometimes she was able to get an answer to her prayers. However, as the clouds shifted, she frowned, long and floppy ears twitching anxiously. The spell cast over her homeworld was doubtless blocking the gods' replies. Despite this, she continued, unsure of what else to do. "Please, at the least, let my fellow shrine maidens come quickly to my aid to protect the last Cure Costume…"

For a moment, the sky seemed to lighten up, the seething storm giving way to a bout of blue.

And then, it grew even darker. One cloud in particular seemed to swirl into four parts, each forming an image in front of Uta, who instinctively clutched the segment of red velveteen cloth tighter. Her voice barely trembled as she abandoned her prayer, her energy turned to the emerging threat. "Be-begone Masked Players! You aren't wanted!"

From the largest form that the cloud made stepped a man of about six feet in height. He was dressed formally, in a tuxedo and cummerbund set, with a red velvet cape that matched the sacred fabric Uta held draped around his shoulders and sweeping the floor. It was his face, however, that Uta was most concerned about. He wore a full face mask set in a deep frown. Through the mouth hole, his smile was a sinister contrast. "Oh, dear shrine maiden of the Cure Costumes, who doesn't want a performer around? You call yourselves the guardians of performance and theatre? And yet, you'd send a hungry actor away?"

"If it's food you want-"

"No, no, dearest… Uta? That is your name? I never did say what I was hungry _for._ Please, don't stand in my way. I've only come to collect the final Cure Costume." He nodded towards a marble pedestal in the middle of the shrine. On it sat the last remaining fragment of hope in the entire universe. To the untrained eye, it looked simply like an old fashioned ladies' fan. Uta, however… and probably this villain too… could see the faint aura of magic, sparkling and shimmering in the air.

Uta took a step backwards protectively. "You already have a Cure Costume, worn on a face that doesn't deserve it! It isn't too late to regain the gods' favor if you abandon your quest. I won't let this Costume go without a fight, so turn back!" She frowned, hopefully with some amount of menace, and wished that the sound of growls and snarls came naturally to her.

The Masked Player tilted his head in thought. "A fight? Lovely, I've always enjoyed stage combat."

From the cloud, three more figures made themselves known, each donned in another Cure Costume. A pale, fanged woman in a long dress that cast long shadows hid behind layers of colorful makeup. Next to her stood a large man in all black. Even his head was covered with an ominous-looking hood. Near him was a young lady in the robes of ancient Greece, who wore an enormous mask twice the size of her head, with a crown attached to it. The three of them silently surrounded Uta, who refused to let herself quiver in despair. If anything, she made herself bigger, pushing her head and shoulders back.

Then, the first Masked Player swept his cape over her, and as if by magic, everything went black.

* * *

 _OP: LIGHTS UP! Pretty Cure Perfect Stage!_

* * *

" _Good morning, Miracopolis! It's 6 AM, and this is DJ Cendrillon coming to you from WSHN 101.6, your local college radio! For those of you just getting up, welcome back to the world of the living. It's Monday, the last week of August… let's start it off with some music!"_

Valentine Anderson rolled over in her bed in response, shoving her pillow on top of her head and all of her short, wavy red hair. Music sounded like the worst idea ever.

" _Here at WSHN, we like to support our local Miracopolis artists… after all, folks, we're the world capital of arts and culture! Except for maybe, New York City. And Paris. And London. And… well, my point is. We've got ten local artists queued up for the next hour. Some you know, some you don't. Coming in first, we've got my personal local fave. Who she is, only a few lucky ducks know, but her music is rocking this city. We've got the new single from White Swan coming up…"_

"Valentine!" called Moira Anderson as she knocked rapidly on the bedroom door. "Are you up yet? First day of school!"

"Nnnnno," Valentine returned as upbeat pop began to play.

"Get up, quick! Your mother made pancakes."

"I'm not hungry, I'm too nervous."

The door opened. Moira poked her head in. "What are you doing being nervous?" she asked. "Not like you've never been to school before!"

Valentine lifted the pillow off of her head and cracked open an eye. It was just her luck to have two morning people as mothers. "Okay, okay, I'm not that nervous, but I figured something out. If I don't have to get up for breakfast, I can sleep in about half an hour more, right?"

"Get up! You're going to eat! I'm not letting her make me eat all the pancakes myself again!"

Moira's voice dropped to conspiratorial horror. "She doesn't even make them right! Besides, some mum I'd be if I let you go off to school on an empty stomach. I don't care for child services after me on your first day of your final year."

"Fine, fine." Valentine rolled her big brown eyes. "I'll be up in a few moments, Mum."

"I'll hold you to it, then!" All too cheerful, Moira slipped out and closed the door behind her.

Yawning, Valentine sat up and pulled the covers back. As she got up, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her bed head was as bad as ever, it seemed, and she quickly grabbed her hairbrush from its place on her nightstand and tamed the flyaway strands until _most_ of them sat tamely. She sighed, knowing it was about as good as it was going to get, and turned towards the chair where she had set her school uniform the night before. "Hello, my old enemy," she whispered with completely intentional dramatics. For a moment, she was an anime villain, and she struck an appropriate pose. "It seems… we must put aside our feud and collaborate once again… but don't mistake this for friendship. At the end of this year, you will be destroyed. Violently."

The uniform didn't respond.

After a second more of holding the pose, Valentine broke, laughing a little at her own antics as she changed out of her pajamas. After those were tossed unceremoniously onto the ground, she picked up the slacks first. Thank goodness there was a pants option, or else she didn't even think she could vaguely tolerate the Parados Academy uniform. After the grey pants were on, she threw on the slightly wrinkled white shirt. Over that went the Parados Academy wine red sweater vest with the school crest stitched in, and finally, she tied the goldenrod bow around her neck, expertly turning it into more of a bowtie than a ribbon. Again, she appraised herself in the mirror. If nothing else, she looked sharp. That was probably the point.

She grabbed her school bag, hoping she remembered to prepack everything she'd need for the day, flicked off the radio, and clamored down the hall to the kitchen, where her moms already were. Moira smiled from the kitchen table, while at the stove, Jamie Anderson flipped another couple of pancakes onto a steadily growing plate. "Mama, are you trying to feed a small army?" Valentine asked as she slid into a chair at the little wooden table.

"We can save them for breakfast for the next few days!" countered Jamie.

"We're going to be so sick of pancakes."

Jamie smiled sheepishly. "Your mum and I can take some for lunch, too."

"Hey! Speak for yourself!" Moira glared, but it was lighthearted. "Valentine, you have to eat at least three, okay?"

"Fine by me!"

Grabbing a plate and digging in, Valentine grinned. There was a legitimate twinge of nerves as she waited to start her senior year of high school, but at least it was off to a good start. A normal start. Everything from her mama making too much food to her mum being goofily grumpy was completely ordinary. It only stood to reason that the rest of the day would be, too.

* * *

Uta awoke in a small cage lined with newspaper. _Like I'm some sort of misbehaving pet,_ she thought as she looked around. She was pleased to find that she still clutched her sacred cloth. They must have assumed it held no power. Perhaps, with the Realm of Wings shrouded in darkness, it didn't.

Around her, the room was dark except for a single spotlight that shone upon a large red throne with gilded trim. There was something near-divine about it, but that only made it seem blasphemous. This throne belonged to someone who thought they were as good as the Divine Playwrights. Uta was sure of it. "Hello?" she called out, anger carrying in her voice. "Is anyone here to monologue at me while I'm trapped in a cage, or are you all just inconsiderate-"

"Patience, Uta," hummed a soft voice. It held a hint of an accent, not enough to place, but enough to give the voice a musical lilt. "I wouldn't keep you waiting for long."

From the darkness emerged a woman who had to be taller than six feet. She wore a tailored grey suit, and dark red hair cascaded over it gorgeously. Even from behind, Uta could tell that this person was clearly attractive, though perhaps not in the traditional sense. If only she could see her face… figure out who this person was… it wasn't any of the four Masked Players who had haunted the Realm of Wings.

The woman's fingers gently skipped over the cage bars as she passed Uta, and Uta tried to grab one with no success. The woman chuckled as she climbed the stairs of the dais where the throne sat. Still with her back to Uta, she spoke once again. "Welcome to my palace. You are in a realm that we here call the Gangrene Room. It is my domain, but I do love visitors. I'm honestly glad you chose not to submit quietly to my generals. It does add a bit of much needed _drama,_ doesn't it?"

"Who are you?"

"I am Lady Skene, queen of this realm. But soon, I will be much, much more."

"You'll never take over the Realm of Wings or the World of Stages! They have people who will protect them and-"

"I never intended to take them over. No, no. There are people who can _run things_ just fine. I've never been interested in that. That's what stage managers are for, don't you think? No, darling, I've always had higher aspirations. Once I was content to be an actor, but now I confess I love the idea of having a distinct vision that everyone follows. I don't want to run the world, love. I want to _direct_ it."

Uta's blood ran cold.

With grace, Lady Skene turned around, and for the first time, Uta caught a glimpse of her bright red eyes underneath a large and terrifying black mask. Though it was shaped similarly… "That's not a Cure Costume," Uta whispered. "What is it?"

"I'm sure you'll find out soon enough, my pretty little pink shrine maiden. For now, put it out of your mind. You've had a long day, and I didn't mean to keep you. I simply wanted to introduce myself. Now that that's over, why don't you take another little rest?"

Lady Skene waved a white-gloved hand, and Uta struggled to stay awake. Once again, however, everything went black as she fell to the darkness.

* * *

The gates of Parados Academy were open invitingly when Valentine got there. In the courtyard, older students gathered, talking to friends they hadn't seen all summer. New students gathered too, making small, scared packs that dotted the scene. _It's a little intimidating, isn't it? Parados is a good school, and it's not entirely traditional. No wonder they're scared._ With that in mind, she beelined to the closest group of freshmen. There were four of them, each wearing the more typical skirt uniform. Valentine smiled warmly. "Freshmen?" she confirmed. The girls nodded. "Welcome to Parados Academy! I'm Valentine Anderson… who are you all?"

The one who spoke up seemed to be the least shy of them, perhaps more lost than nervous. "I'm Caroline. That's Mira, that one is Ellie, and she's Jane."

"Nice to meet you! I'm really glad you're here, and I hope we can become friends. Do you all know where you're going?"

"I think… the chapel?" said Caroline.

"Is this a religious school?" asked Jane.

Valentine shook her head. "Nah, it just sounds fancier than the auditorium, I guess. The teachers here like to be formal sometimes, and other times it's completely informal. It takes some getting used to, but I'm sure you'll get it. There's lots of people around to help. Do you know where the chapel is?" They shook their heads. "In through the front door and keep going all the way straight to the back. It's at the very end of the hall. You've got about twenty minutes, and it's hard to get lost, so try not to worry!"

"Thank you!" Caroline said warmly.

Valentine grinned again. "Yeah, no problem! Nice to meet you all!"

She walked away and intended to turn and find another group of freshman, but instead was startled by a sudden clap on her back. "Are you avoiding people your own age?" asked a familiar voice.

Valentine turned her head to face Carissa Blanchard. As always, Carissa looked like a cooler, younger, very different in appearance Valentine… or maybe, she simply looked how Valentine always wanted to look. Her uniform pants were slightly too big, allowing her to roll them up all the way to the knee like a pair of shorts, and her ribbon was untied in a way that managed to look just the right amount of rebellious. Instead of the formal shoes that the school recommended, she wore a pair of old sneakers. With her outfit and the way her black hair was tied up in a high ponytail, Valentine was almost surprised she didn't just carry around a soccer ball under her arm to complete the look. "You're one to talk. You were one of those freshman I helped just a year ago."

"I didn't need the help as much as them, though. Did I?"

"No, probably not. How was your summer?"

"It was wild! I went off to camp in Pennsylvania and did a whole program based around sports, and that was cool and all, but I think that the CITs there were…"

Standing behind Carissa was a lone girl. She seemed to be a freshman, but there was no worried crowd with her. Her straight black hair was cut into a bob that framed her face, and even though her skin was dark, her cheeks looked flushed. She glanced around, searching for something or someone…

"Earth to Valentine? Valentine?"

"Huh?"

Carissa looked behind her. "You just got an urgent need to go help the freshman, didn't you?"

"Uh-huh."

Carissa sighed. "Well, go to it then. We can catch up once you're done being the hero. Don't let Bronwyn catch you, though. You know she'll try to take the credit."

"Yeah, no problem! See you, Rissa!"

Without waiting for a response, Valentine jogged up to the girl. "Hi, how are you?" she asked politely.

The girl looked up. She was short, youthful, even discounting the fact that Valentine stood at an easy 5'10". "I think I'm a little lost," she said.

"I'm happy to help. I'm Valentine Anderson, by the way. I'm a senior here. And you?"

"Saachi Sloane. I'm new. I mean, I'm a freshman. But I'm also new! My family, we just moved here, I mean. To Miracopolis. From Ohio."

Valentine smiled as the girl stumbled, a little unsure what to do. "Well, uh, welcome! I bet it's a lot different, huh? So, what are you looking for?"

"My sister, actually! She's a junior. I don't know where she went…"

This was definitely a little out of Valentine's depth. Navigating the old hallways of Parados Academy was one thing. A missing person was something entirely else. "Where were you meeting her?"

"The courtyard. That's here, right?"

"Yeah! Um, I could help you look?"

Saachi slumped. "No, it's fine. There's not much time until class, anyway. I should probably get to my homeroom."

"We don't have homeroom, actually, we have a grade by grade assembly every morning… I heard freshman are in the chapel. You can find it if-"

"Don't worry, I know, I toured the school last weekend!" The girl brightened and grinned. "But thanks! Nice to meet you, Valencia!"

"It's Valent-"

She was already halfway across the courtyard, moving as though she was doing a very, very fast dance, complete with a couple of twirls that caused her skirt to swirl gracefully. Valentine blinked. _What was that?_

* * *

Partway into the studio theatre where seniors met for assembly, Valentine skid to a halt as four of her classmates blocked her path. "Um, hi, guys!" she said. "Could I get through, please?" Her eyes appraised the four women, and she mentally cursed as she realized who they were.

The vice president of the student council stepped forward. "We need to see you before assembly. Privately."

"Um. Okay."

"Let's step to the side, shall we?"

Dumbly, Valentine followed the group. In her imagination, they were suddenly a group of wicked witches intent on performing a human sacrifice. That's why Gina Meyers, the secretary, was so energetic all the time, and why the treasurer, Emily Kahn, was notoriously brilliant. It was how vice president Laura de la Cruz happened to be so quick-witted, and president Bronwyn Loveland managed to keep her long, blonde hair so gorgeous and effortlessly smooth and shiny. They were obviously taking those things from more deserving people, just like in that teen witch movie Valentine had watched last halloween. The difference was that in the movie, once you were sacrificed, it was over and you were dead. Valentine felt like she was getting sacrificed again and again.

They stopped. "Come on," said Laura. "You have to know why we're talking to you."

"Because I helped some freshmen?"

"Because you consistently undermine our authority," Bronwyn said, cutting in as smooth as butter with a voice like poisonous ice cream. "You showed no interest in joining the student council, and yet you consistently do our jobs for us. You welcome the new students, help people who are lost, tour visitors…"

"What's there for us to do?" asked Gina.

"When people need things they go to you, not us," Bronwyn explained. "It's harmful to the student body as a whole. Someday, they're going to come to you with something you can't help with, because you may have the heart, but you have none of the power. It's better if you just stay out of things and let us do our jobs. We've been trying to tell you for over a year now. If this doesn't stop, we may have to get a teacher involved."

Valentine raised an eyebrow. "What are you going to even say, that I was helping others too much?"

"That you're going against school spirit, overstepping your boundaries, sabotaging the student council."

"And causing our bake sale numbers to decline because people aren't as familiar with us," said Emily.

Bronwyn smiled. Something not quite nice was behind it. "I don't want to have to take that step, so I'm asking you nicely one more time. Please, just stay out of other people's business and let us do our job."

Valentine frowned.

"Say you will. Please."

"I'll try not to overstep," Valentine grumbled. "But I won't stop helping people."

"And we don't ask you to. Just… think about how your actions make the rest of us look. Okay? Okay. Nice chatting with you, Valentine." Bronwyn turned, her hair flying out behind her, and walked towards the theatre. The other student government members followed, leaving Valentine behind.

* * *

In the Gangrene Room, a small common area not too far from Lady Skene's throne hosted the four Masked Players. They sat around an ornate table that held four of the Cure Costumes. One was shaped like a funny sort of mask that cut off right below the nose. Its features were comical and exaggerated. Next to it was a delicate lady's fan, complete with lace and embroidery. Next to that sat a masquerade mask with feathers and sequins in all sorts of bright colors, and finally, there was a simple white mask with a big smile that anyone even vaguely familiar with theatre could recognize.

"The last four. We have them all, all of the Cure Costumes! Now, Lady Skene's great direction can finally get underway. And as the best actors in the universe, we'll be in the starring roles!" proclaimed the fanged lady.

"Not yet, Madam Dangerfield!" chided the suited man. "Possessing the Cure Costumes means nothing. We must use them to our advantage in order to give our Lady ways to manipulate the World of Stages into following her directions."

"How so?" asked the man in all black.

"Well, the little swan fairy we captured weeks ago told us everything we need to know. Of course, the Cure Costumes grant their users magic, strength, agility, and power. But they do one other thing. Don't you all remember? Madam Dangerfield? Shadow? Pandora?"

The three of them shook their heads.

"When someone uses a Cure Costume, it reveals their truest self. For us, it revealed our natural status as the finest actors the world has ever seen, of course. The other Cure Costumes… they are weapons, don't you see? If we find a person whose heart is ugly and monstrous, even just for a moment, then they will become the sort of being who will spread chaos and fear. And what do people want in the wake of chaos? Order! Order that we will be so happy to provide! It's brilliant and magical!" The man grinned through his frowning mask.

The robed woman, Pandora, sighed. "But we only have four spare Cure Costumes. Will four monsters be enough, Artu?"

Artu frowned. "You have a point. It's unlikely… hmm. I will stay behind and think. So will two more of you. Someone else, take a Cure Costume and go to the World of Stages. We must start this plan promptly."

Snakily, Pandora put one finger to the side of her nose. Madam Dangerfield followed, as did Artu. It was a beat before Shadow realized what was going on. He stamped a black-clad foot. "You all leave me the dirty work."

"It's your own fault for not being fast enough," said Artu. "Now, take a Cure Costume and do your duty to the Masked Players."

"Fine. I'm going!"

With a wave of his hand, he vanished from the Gangrene Room in a puff of smoke. When it cleared, only three Cure Costumes remained on the table.

* * *

 _EYECATCH: Valentine twirls in a Romeo-esque outfit on a large proscenium stage. A bubble pops, and it's revealed she's been daydreaming in class. She smiles sheepishly as the logo appears_

* * *

First day assembly always went on for hours, and Valentine knew it. Her sudden bad mood had made her very unequipped to handle it, however. She slumped into her seat, bored, as the handbook was read line by line. She doodled idly as the welcome speech was given. By the time it was time for first-day-back team building, she felt like she was going to burst from boredom.

"The senior members of the student council will now be leading a game of competitive rock, paper, scissors-"

"Ugh," said Valentine under her breath, causing the people to both sides of her to look confused. As everyone else stood, she tried not to look as unhappy as she felt. People looked up to her. That was both a blessing and, apparently, a curse. She didn't want to let on about what she had been talked to about. Bronwyn's words echoed like a hex in her head. _It's harmful to the student body as a whole. Someday, they're going to come to you with something you can't help with, because you may have the heart, but you have none of the power. It's better if you just stay out of things and let us do our jobs._

Now, Bronwyn's voice carried to explain the rules of the same game they played every first day for the last four years. Valentine sighed and looked around at her classmates.

A few people away, a girl jumped and shrieked quietly. Bronwyn looked her way, then continued talking as though nothing had happened. A couple beats later, however, a few girls started jumping, little noises of distress muffled against each other as they clung to their friends. "What is it?" Valentine heard one say, too loud against Bronwyn's speech.

"A cockroach!"

"No, a spider!"

"It's too big and it's red! A scorpion!"

As she looked to the ground, sure enough, Valentine saw something bright candy red skittering around. It looked just as unhappy to be in a sea of teenage girls as the girls were for it to be there. Valentine frowned as the antics got louder. Bronwyn didn't seem to be stopping, only raising her voice meaningfully to compensate.

Someone had to do something.

"Excuse me!" Valentine pushed through the crowd of terrified girls, her eyes following the creature on its path. She ducked past people, weaving in and out. She could feel eyes on her. _I'm only doing what you refused to! It's your own fault!_ she thought spitefully as she finally got to a place clear of girls, with only her and the small animal. Recklessly, she dove so that her hands grasped around the skittering little being, who seemed to be trying to escape but with no clue where to turn. Valentine stood up and took a closer look at it, hoping it wasn't actually a scorpion, but it seemed to be nothing more than a baby crab. Its big eyes that sparkled strangely intelligently were on the verge of tears. "Are you okay, buddy?" Valentine asked softly. "It's okay. I'm here to help. I'm not gonna hurt you. Let's get you outside, okay?"

"Valentine caught it!" someone cried out, and a rousing chorus of cheers started.

Valentine blushed, embarrassed, until she felt a cold stare on her. She turned to see Bronwyn. "Thank you for helping," said the student council president in a voice so icy cold that Valentine could only imagine herself turning into a very tall and gawky ice sculpture… another prize for Snow Queen Bronwyn's palace, she supposed. "We all appreciate it, but I can take it from here. If you'll hand our little visitor over to me, I'll make sure it gets somewhere safe." She held out a hand expectantly.

"Don't you want to finish going over the rules?"

"I already did. You were listening, right? Must have gotten a bit distracted with the danger, I suppose. It's alright." Her eyes gleamed with a clever intelligence that Valentine wished wasn't being played against her.

Reluctantly, Valentine gave the small crab over, but not without a final pat on the head. "Please, make sure it's safe," she said to Bronwyn.

"I will. _I_ keep my promises." Bronwyn took the crab firmly and started off, leaving a gaggle of giggling teenagers gossipping about how they almost lost their lives to a beast, and leaving Valentine unsure of what wrath she had incurred.

* * *

By the end of the day, there was still no sign of the wrath of the student council, and that only served to make Valentine more nervous. There was all sorts of energy inside her that she couldn't seem to get out. Part of her wanted to cry, part of her wanted to punch someone, and part of her wanted to go tattle to a teacher. Not that anyone would believe that perfect Bronwyn Loveland was like this. Not like Bronwyn was technically doing anything wrong. Anyway, she was in twelfth grade, not third.

Instead of everything she wanted to do, she opted to take the long way home through Pageant Park. There was something relaxing about all the trees, especially in Miracopolis where skyscrapers usually took their place. The grass swayed gently, and flowers were planted freely. If she tuned out the sound of the car horns and the people moving too-rapidly from one place to another, Valentine found that she could almost forget she lived in a major city at all. As she breathed in the air, smelling the plants around her and revelling in it, she sunk down to sit under a large tree. "So today went bad," she told herself. "Maybe tomorrow won't be so bad. I can't ever have another today, I guess."

She closed her eyes for a moment and imagined herself as a charming prince who had faced down a dragon… a dragon of ice and lightning. Yes, the prince was forced to retreat, but that didn't mean that the story was over. No, the prince could come back stronger. Maybe then she could defeat the dragon. Maybe she could even befriend the dragon. Unlikely, but it was Valentine's fantasy, and she could do what she wanted in it.

"Excuse me, miss?"

"Oh, sorry, yes?" said Valentine as she opened her eyes and looked up to face the person who addressed her.

There was just one problem. No one was there.

"Down here, miss!"

Valentine looked down.

In front of her stood a very small animal with golden-red fur and big blue eyes that were, like the crab's, too intelligent. It stood bipedal, tapping one foot impatiently. "Hello. Did you know you're giving off incredible creative waves right now?"

Valentine let out a noise halfway between a curse word and a shriek. The small animal patiently waited. After a moment without incident, Valentine had mostly calmed. She was certainly calm enough to speak. "Uh, ah, excuse me. Uh. A-are you talking?"

"Yes, I am talking to you. Oh, wait, did you mean in general? Yes, I am. Nice to meet you! My name is Meisner!" It… she?... stopped tapping her foot and instead stuck out a paw. As though in a trance, Valentine took it and shook. "What's your name?"

"I'm. I'm Valentine. Um, what are you. A-a fox, right?"

"No, I'm not. I'm a fairy muse!" she said with stomp of her foot before adding "...and I think I'm more of a maned wolf, if anything… huh, I dunno, now that I think about it..."

Valentine looked around. _If someone else is in the area, they can tell me if I'm seeing things._ It seemed, however, that she and Meisner were alone. "A fairy muse?"

"Yes!" Meisner nodded. "I'm from the Realm of Wings. Think of it as a recycling center for creative energy! When a person from the World of Stages… that's what we call your planet… has an idea, they produce tons of energy! When they finish the idea, the energy has to go somewhere, so it flies to the Realm of Wings where we turn some of it into magic and send some of it back down to Earth so other people can get creative ideas. The thing is, oftentimes creative types are bad about finishing things. That's where fairy muses come in. The fairy muses are given jobs, like coming to the World of Stages to befriend and cheer on creative humans so that they finish their projects. Like a guardian angel, but not at all! It's all very efficient!"

"Oh! And so you've come to encourage-"

"Oh, no, no. Sorry for the misunderstanding. I'm here to retrieve the Cure Costumes, but I felt you creating and just _had_ to come over and encourage you! So what is it? Are you writing a story? Are you thinking of doing art? Are you going to be in a play? Plays are my favorite!"

Valentine blushed. "No, I haven't acted in years, and anyway, I don't do anything with the stories I make up. I just tell them to myself to cheer myself up when I'm sad."

Meisner frowned. "You're sad, then? What's wrong?"

It seemed very embarrassing to tell a small maned-wolf-slash-fairy-muse what was wrong, especially when she may not have even been real. Valentine sighed and curled her knees into her chest. "It's nothing, really. Maybe I'm just being overly sensitive."

"If it's making you upset, that's not you being overly sensitive, that's you expressing your emotions. I'm told creative types have a lot of those."

"You're told?"

Meisner was the one to blush this time. "This is my first trip down to the World of Stages, in all honesty," she admitted.

"Are you lost? I'm good at giving directions."

"Not exactly. I'm looking for someone."

 _Not again._ "Is there anyway I can help?"

"Well… you probably haven't seen a little red fairy muse lurking around somewhere, have you?" Valentine opened her mouth in surprise, ready to answer. She was cut off by a sudden darkening of the sky. Meisner, too, froze. "Oh no. Oh no!"

"What is it?"

"The Masked Players! They've found me! Valentine… please… hide me!"

Meisner didn't wait for permission or agreement before jumping on Valentine's arm and scampering across it and into Valentine's school bag. Valentine blinked, stood, and hugged herself nervously. "Uh. Okay! What's happening?"

"That," said a voice, "is a very vague question."

A beacon of smoke appeared in front of Valentine, and out stepped a man dressed completely in black. Not a bit of skin showed, not even eyes or nose or mouth. His hood had a netted bit in front that shielded him, and the entire hood drooped eerily. Still, Valentine could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke once again. "I can feel the sadness in your soul, and the anger in your heart. It's been soothed slightly, but not to the point of being healed. Yes, you'll do." He snapped his fingers, and in his hand appeared a black mask with exaggerated features.

"Valentine! You need to run!" said Meisner. "He has two Cure Costumes. There's no telling what he could do with them!"

"He _what_?"

"Who are you talking to?" asked the man curiously.

Meisner hopped out of the bag and onto Valentine's shoulder. "Shadow, leave her alone!" she demanded.

"Oh, it's Meisner. I was wondering if we'd see you again. Do you remember Suzu, Viola, Eti, Laban, and Stella? They all send their love. Oh, and I'm forgetting someone, I know I am… oh yes… Uta is with us now too. As I'm sure dear Konstantin and yourself will be soon."

Meisner growled.

"Why don't you just come home to the Gangrene Room, little fairy muse? The last two shrine maidens of the Realm of Wings can hardly compete against the Masked Players and Lady Skene. You've lost all that you swore to protect. What's the point anymore? You'd feel better with your friends."

"I won't! There's still things left to protect. Like creativity, and theatre, and Valentine!"

Shadow looked Valentine over appraisingly. "Hmm. Fine. How about this, then? Let's strike a deal, little heroic fairy muse. Give yourself up to protect this one, and I won't turn her into a raging monster. Is that enough protection for you?"

Meisner froze. She looked at Valentine, who felt like she looked very confused. "I-"

"You have to the count of three. One… two…"

"I'll do it, then," said Meisner. "You're right. I can't protect everyone anymore, but if I can protect just one, then…"

"Good. Then come to me. We really must be going."

"Wait!" said Valentine. "What just happened? Meisner, did you just give yourself up to some evil dude?"

Meisner hung her head. Shadow laughed. "It's none of your business anymore, little girl. Come along, fairy muse."

Hopping off of Valentine's shoulder, Meisner shuffled slowly towards Shadow. A million thoughts raced through Valentine's head. She should turn and run. She should grab Meisner. She should get sad. She should get angry. One thing, a remnant from only ten minutes before when she'd been upset about smaller things, bubbled to the surface. _She kind of wanted to punch someone._

Valentine stepped over Meisner and ran towards Shadow, fist out and ready. As she approached, she swung with everything she had. She was a prince, a knight, a magical girl. She was powerful, and she was going to win.

He caught her fist. Effortlessly, he threw her backwards. She didn't even realize she was almost flying over the grass and flowers until she crashed into the ground meters from where she had been a moment before. Gasping for breath, she forced herself to stand up, raising her fist. She could feel a thin trail of blood coming from her forehead. "This isn't right!" she wheezed. "Come on, fight fair, you jerk."

"There are no fair fights in life, child," said Shadow. He twirled the mask in his hands. "I did tell your little fairy muse I wouldn't use this, but it's in self defense. That hardly counts. Cure Costume! Cue Ensomber!"

The mask flew at her with surprising accuracy, though it seemed to Valentine that Shadow had barely flicked his wrist. She could feel something monstrous growing in her as it approached. Sadness. Anger. Hunger. What was she even hungry for? She was hungry for… for…

 _For justice and truth and beauty and creativity. For a good story. For a good show._

Her arm darted out with almost supernatural speed and she caught the mask that would otherwise have hit her in the face. As she did, the black mask glowed and turned a beautiful bright red. Feelings of anger and sadness faded until all that was left was Valentine's drive to make things better. "This isn't the way of this mask," she said. "You've somehow turned it into a weapon, but all weapons can be things of beauty, too! I'll use my creativity to turn it back into something wonderful. That is my motivation! _Pretty Cure! Endow my world_!"

She put the mask on and the world turned into light.

When it faded, Valentine stood center stage, a single spotlight shining on her. She looked up into the light, letting it hit the shine of her eyes as she called out her wishes, her hopes, her dreams. "With comedy and smiles, let's go! It's showtime!" Swiping her foot into a neat kick, she stepped forward and instinctively grabbed the red velvet curtain in front of her. It easily separated from the stage, shrinking until it was small enough that she could comfortably throw it around her like an oversized tunic or cape. Underneath it, she could feel her school uniform changing around her, a faint glow leaking out with its own light as it did. Her pants shortened and poofed out a bit into what seemed almost like short red breeches, and as she pulled the curtain away, sweeping it back into a capelet, she saw that it had transformed her shirt into a white and puffy-sleeved thing. Overtop was a red vest with golden trim and white frills.

She kicked out her feet and thrust out her arms. One by one, more details appeared… red boots over white socks, white gloves. A bump of her hip, and over her vest appeared a belt of white ribbon with a golden drama mask charm securing it instead of a buckle or tie. Valentine smiled and clapped her hands together once, twice, three times, and a golden charm bracelet appeared on her left hand. She touched the mask on her face, and it shattered, the energy from the breakage changing her hair into a slightly longer and much brighter style. She accepted this just in time to see the mask she put on, the Cure Costume, reforming as a tiny charm on her charm bracelet.

Valentine wanted to look at herself, but adrenaline was racing. It felt like she was on a real stage, giving a real performance. That meant there were still things left to do. She could hear music, and the applause of some invisible crowd. As the spotlight poured down on her, she bowed, then rose back up with a big smile. The energy of the stage seemed to surround her, giving her strength and power beyond anything she'd ever imagined.

Still, she needed something. She had one more line, on the tip of her tongue, as though she had said it before in a thousand rehearsals. She stepped on foot out, kicking it so she had it resting on its heel, and put her hands on her hips, head tilting up proudly. "A beacon of good cheer and fun times! Live on stage… enter, Cure Round!"

* * *

 _ED: Happiness Smile Objective_

* * *

MEISNER: And now, it's time for the theatre term of the episode! Today's term is "at rise."

VALENTINE: Is that like when I got up this morning to the sound of the radio? I rose out of bed, right?

MEISNER: Actually, it's not too far out! A description of what something is like "at rise" describes what it looks like when the lights come up and the scene starts. So the scene where you were introduced definitely had you about to wake up at rise. Showing what something is like at rise is a pretty simple but powerful way to define a lot about the show that is about to unfold… and man is ours a good one! Tune in soon for another theatre term and another fun episode of Pretty Cure Perfect Stage!

* * *

CURE ROUND: Whoa! I'm a magical girl!

MEISNER: A legendary actor Pretty Cure! You're Cure Round!

CURE ROUND: And I'm expected to save the world? By myself?

MEISNER: No, you'll have some help! I think. I hope. Maybe.

CURE ROUND: Good, because I don't know what's going on! Someone come help me! Next time on Pretty Cure Perfect Stage… "Cure Round in Trouble! Break a Leg!"

MEISNER: We'll put on a lovely show just for you!


	2. Cure Round in Trouble!

_OP: LIGHTS UP! Pretty Cure Perfect Stage!_

* * *

Valentine looked around as the light faded, leaving only the familiarity of Pageant Park around her. She blinked her newly-red eyes, confused. "Um. Huh?"

Shadow was seething, she could tell that much even though there was no way to look at his expression through that black hood. Meisner, on the other hand, looked delighted. There practically were stars in her eyes… or maybe her pupils were simply always shaped like that, some sort of tell of her magical heritage. "Cure Round!" she exclaimed. "A legendary actor! This is amazing! There hasn't been a legendary actor in-"

"Centuries. For centuries, the Divine Playwrights have not chosen someone to personify the spirit of the stage. For centuries, it's been all hard work… and then you show up and ruin it," Shadow said, his voice twisted nastily. "I will not let this stand! I will not let this get back to Lady Skene!"

"And what are you gonna do about it, Shadow?" taunted Meisner. "She's just as powerful as you, now, and she has me on her side too! Maybe a shrine maiden alone stands no chance, but a shrine maiden and a legendary actor Pretty Cure together? We'll destroy you with a smile!"

Looking down, Valentine… no, Cure Round… examined her new outfit. As she moved her head, she felt her newly lengthened hair swish gracefully. This was like something from one of the stories she had daydreamed up, only she knew she had never daydreamed anything quite like this. Even so, there was only one thing to do. She had to act the hero. Right? "Uh, yeah! What she said! I won't let you threaten anyone, not a single person." Some brief inspiration passed over her, and she posed dramatically, her hands forming a heart over her chest as she tilted her head with a confidence she barely felt. "To you so lacking in entertainment that you would sully the hearts of others in its name, I'll put on a lovely show and bring your smile back for good!"

Meisner looked like she was about to faint from happiness. "Just like in all the Precure stories… even her silly speeches manage to seem cool!"

"Wait, silly?"

"It doesn't matter, just fight him, Cure Round!"

Shadow growled, stepping forward menacingly. "I won't stand for this. It's hardly fair for me to be outnumbered by scene partners." From a pocket in his black pants, he pulled out a tiny spherical gem, which he rolled over in his gloved hands. The black sphere sparkled not with light, but with darkness itself. It was almost as though smoke poured off of it. Like a smoke bomb, he tossed it in front of him as he barked what seemed to be an order. "Dark Prop! Cue Ensomber!"

The gem burst into a pool of darkness. When that dissipated, a giant worm loomed over Cure Round. The worm was dark purple, red, and black, the colors broken up into segments. Though it had no eyes, it seemed to have angry eyebrows. Were it not easily fifteen feet tall, it might have been comical. Shadow laughed to see it, then disappeared as he stepped back into the darkness which he had come from. "Okay, change of plans," said Meisner. "Don't fight him. Fight that!"

"Got it!" said Cure Round with a nod. Echoing her earlier action, she raced forward, ready to punch. As she released her arm and its energy into the slimy worm, it was thrown backwards. Cure Round blinked as she watched it slam into a tree easily twenty feet away. As it did, dust rose from the ground, which now had visible skid marks. "Whoa! Holy-"

"Keep going! It's not yet defeated!" Cure Round reeled up for another punch, but before it could be released, the worm dove headfirst into the ground with a high-pitched cry of "Ensomber!" Round barely managed to pause in time to avoid falling flat on her face. She blinked in surprise and found, when her eyes opened again, that the worm was gone. "Underneath you, Round!" Meisner coached. "It's underground."

"How am I supposed to fight it there?"

The ground rumbled. "Quick," said Meisner. "Dodge it! Jump!"

Round obliged, leaping into the air. Her capelet billowed behind her, seeming to act as a reverse parachute and throwing her up higher, higher, even higher than she expected. She looked around, eyes wide. She was easily at level with the tops of the tallest skyscrapers in Miracopolis. The enormous city was spread out beneath her like a map, from the precisely rectangular and huge Pageant Park to the famous restaurants and shops that lined Vaudeville Avenue. If she looked towards the distance, she could even see her own apartment building, where her mum would be waiting for her to get home. "This is amazing!" she breathed to a couple of passing pigeons, who looked at her as though they could barely believe this was real. Perhaps it wasn't.

With a graceful twirl midair, she began to descend. As she grew closer and closer to the ground, details began to emerge… such as the worm now hovering over Meisner, who looked scared out of her tiny, furry wits. "Hey, Slimey!" called Cure Round. The worm looked up and away from the tiny fairy muse. "What's kickin'?"

Instead of landing properly, her feet slammed into the side of the worm's face. "Ensomber!" it roared in protest as it fell over.

Round jumped back neatly, landing perfectly on the ground. She appraised the helpless-looking monster. _So do I just keep beating it up? That seems cruel and unheroic… what would a magical girl in my daydreams do?_ she asked herself.

She closed her eyes and thought. _Magic, of course. I'm no magical girl without magic._ In a flash, her eyes shot back open and she unhooked the miniature mask from its place on the charm bracelet. As she threw it into the air, she cried out "Magic… theatre… fatal blow weapon thing!"

The charm sparkled brightly before vanishing and appearing back on her bracelet. "What?" said Cure Round, disappointment leaking into her tone. "That's not what I'm supposed to-"

"Come on," said Meisner. Her voice was encouraging, if impatient. "You're a legendary actor. A beacon of creativity. And that, that's the oldest trick in the book. Try something different. And do it before the Ensomber gets back up, please!"

Sure enough, the wormlike monster was pulling itself up by wrapping around a large tree. Cure Round frowned. How was she supposed to defeat the beast? Be creative, Meisner had inferred. She had to go about this logically before she could go to the creative details, though. Every creative field had to have discipline, and being a magical girl was probably no different. She thought hard. What did she want? She didn't want to kill the monster. No, she would rather defeat it in a harmless way. Something that could hit without really hurting...

For a moment, she came up blank. She sighed, defeated.

" _Back in the day, the actors of commedia dell'arte had this thing called a slapstick."_ Cure Round blinked. A memory was coming to her, of back when she took acting classes as a kid. Her old teacher, Ms. Ursula Hagen, had covered not just acting, but the technical and historical aspects of theatre. Now, those old lessons were giving her an idea. " _They looked like they hurt, and people acted like they hurt when they hit, but nobody actually got hurt at all. That's what made it funny and made people laugh."_

Cure Round's red eyes glowed with inspiration. "That's it! That's what I want. I'll bring back your smile in a way that's sure to be a hit! Emerge from my dreams! _Baton de farce_!" She traced a circle in the air with one gloved finger, and from the nothingness emerged a red slapstick with a golden chain attached to it. Cure Round grabbed it and gave it a few quick twirls as though it truly was a baton, then raised it high into the air, aiming it at the monster. "Pretty Cure!" she cried, "Curtain Call!"

With a light hit of the slapstick-like weapon, the Ensomber jumped into the air. "Bravo!" it said dreamily before exploding into a shower of red, gold, purple, and pink sparks that shot into the air like fireworks.

When the dramatics had calmed, Cure Round held a tiny brown-pink earthworm no different than any other. She set it down on the ground and watched it quickly scurry away and into the dirt. It took her a moment to register the sound of clapping. "Bravo! Bravo indeed!" said Meisner, who was, in fact, clapping her little paws together. "What a show, and from a legendary actor too!"

"But what does that mean?" asked Cure Round. "What am I? Who am I? I'm a hero, right? A magical girl?"

"It's kind of a long story. Is there somewhere we can talk?"

* * *

Valentine cracked the door to her apartment open and peeked her head inside, hoping to figure out where her mothers were. Jamie, who worked as a stage manager and acting teacher for a small children's theatre company and school downtown, would probably be at work still. It was her mum, Moira, that she had to be concerned about. Moira worked as a writer in almost all capacities, from novels to newspaper articles to poetry to plays. She and Jamie had met twenty-five years ago when she had a brief stint as a theatre critic, and they had been together ever since. Due to her work, Moira was nearly always home when Valentine got home from school. Normally, it was sweet. Today, when Valentine was trying to sneak what looked like a small maned wolf into the house, it wasn't so great.

Meisner peeked into the apartment too, straining her small and furry neck. Valentine shoved her back into the backpack where she'd placed her. "Careful!" she warned.

"Valentine?" called a voice from the kitchen. "Are you home, love? Want a snack? We've got pancakes!"

"Um, no thanks! I'm going to go study for a bit until dinner! I love you! I'll tell you all about the first day when we eat!"

Valentine raced through the hall towards her bedroom at the end. Just before she shut the door, she saw Moira's head emerge from the kitchen. "Study? It's the first day of-"

Collapsing onto the bed, Valentine sighed. "She's going to know something is up, isn't she?"

"Oh for sure!" said Meisner cheerfully. "For a legendary actor, acting isn't really your strong suit, is it?"

"It used to be. When I was a kid. I used to want to be an actor when I grew up. I guess every kid does, though! Lots of competition. It wasn't really realistic."

Meisner hopped out of the schoolbag. She looked confused. "Well," she said, "considering you have massive amounts of creative energy… and that you just turned into a really cool magical girl… I'm kind of surprised that the word realistic is in your vocabulary at all. You kind of struck me as a dreamer."

"I mean. I am. But I'm also a senior in high school. I've got to go to college soon. I have to start thinking about the future and-"

"That's the thing. There's not going to _be_ a future. Not realistically. Of course, if a dreamer were to step up to the plate, maybe we could change that."

Valentine sat up and looked at the fairy muse. Meisner looked incredibly grim. Her small eyes with the odd eyeshines were trained on Valentine's wrist. When Valentine had de-transformed from Cure Round into her normal self, the charm bracelet had stubbornly stayed with her. The odd little mask charm dangled off of it cutely, a reminder of the events of the last two hours. "Meisner, what exactly is going on?" Valentine asked.

"Listen carefully. I'll tell you everything I know."

* * *

 _A long, long time ago, there were no worlds, only a group of eight creative spirits. With nothing to do, they did nothing but dream and bring their dreams to life. Some were quite fleeting, some quite long. That was, and is, the nature of creations. One day, however, the youngest of the creative spirits realized that even the most temporary thing could become a kind of permanent, if it were written and given to the world in the form of words on a page. The eight creators began to record the adventures and people they made. Thus, they became what we now call the Divine Playwrights… creators and recorders of adventure and fate._

 _Each of the Divine Playwrights fashioned a token of their favorite kind of story. Each was unique to them and took the form of a mask or something similar. After all, the best and most creative stories came from pretending to be something that you were not, or so they figured. And yet, through pretending to be something else, often you discovered your Truest Self. By existing in imagination, one could find out who they were, who they wished to be, what they were willing to do to become that person._

 _These were the masks that were created._

 _The mask of musicality._

 _The mask of elegance._

 _The mask of modesty._

 _The mask of whimsy._

 _The mask of happiness._

 _The mask of beauty._

 _The mask of intentionality._

 _The mask of balance._

 _Each of these eight masks symbolized not just a genre, but a quality. And each of these masks, if utilized by the right person, could birth a hero or heroine. However, were the person not right… were their heart clouded by anger and sadness and could-never-bes… then instead, they would be naught but a villain or monster. The Divine Playwrights called these the Cure Costumes and said to their newly released worlds that when the time was right, the eight masks would find people who would act in the grandest play to ever be written._

 _Of course, this was not to be the case. Only a year ago, these masks disappeared one by one, as did the shrine maidens who were tasked to watch over them until the time was right. It was discovered that the thieves were a band of actors called the Masked Players, who wished nothing more than to use the Cure Costumes to become the best actors the universe had ever known… no matter the cost. What they did with these divine items, or with their captured shrine maidens, nobody truly knew. Not even the only two shrine maidens to escape their clutches. Of course, with the power of the Cure Costumes, the play they intend to put on could only be evil._

* * *

"The two escaped shrine maidens. One is you, right, Meisner? And the other is the crab?"

"Konstantine," said Meisner quietly. "She's the youngest of us and my dear friend. We were the first two to get targeted. We didn't know what they wanted, what was going on. She hid from them. I ran. We weren't like our other friends. Uta and Stella and Laban… Suzu, Eti, and Viola… oh, they were all brave enough to stand up to the Masked Players. We weren't."

"But if you did, there would be no one to find the Legendary Actors and save the world, right? So you did the right thing."

"We shouldn't have separated."

"We'll find her. She's not far. I can talk to Bronwyn. Maybe."

"Bronwyn?"

"She's- ugh. She's the student government president. Konstantine kind of caught all of the senior class at my school off guard, and Bronwyn was going to release her outside so people wouldn't freak out at a candy apple red crab scurrying all over the place. Bronwyn doesn't like me very much, but if I ask nicely I can probably get some information out of her."

"I'm sure if she knew how important it was for the world, she could hardly say no." Meisner tilted her head as she stood up on the bed. "If we just tell her that the fate of the world is resting on this, how could she disagree?"

"You don't know Bronwyn. She's… she's like… she's like a vampire queen." Valentine's face grew serious. "She's all soft words and pretty looks. Long blonde hair, pale skin, you know the type." From the look on Meisner's face, the fairy muse did not, in fact, know the type. "She pretends to be all nice and then wham! She sucks the life and joy out of you. Or else she turns you into one of her mindless thralls, but she's never been able to make me into one. She's just about as bad as that bad guy we fought earlier. Only I have to actually go to school with her."

Valentine sighed and walked to the window of her room. The view from the twenty-eighth story was gorgeous, overlooking the best parts of Miracopolis… the border of Pageant Park, a bend in the Repertory River, and several other skyscrapers. It was incredible to think that she was now a defender of the city she had lived in since she was three. Not just the city, but the whole world. And yet, she still had to deal with school day bullies. Despite what Meisner said, no way would Bronwyn… or anyone… believe Valentine if she said she had to save the future from a bunch of evil actors. If only they would. Having someone to tell would be nice. _Maybe I could convince Carissa… no way would she believe me. Would anyone? Laura-_

No. She quickly shook that thought from her mind and turned back to Meisner. Laura was nothing but one of Bronwyn's cronies anymore.

"Well, it can't hurt to ask, can it? I'm sure even a vampire queen can't want the world to be taken over," said Meisner all-too-sensibly.

"She probably doesn't. Not if she's not the one doing it. I'll ask her tomorrow," Valentine said. She looked out upon the city once more. _Let's hope she's in a generous mood._

* * *

The second day of school was more typical compared to the first. At morning assembly, the students received their class schedules. For a final year schedule, Valentine's wasn't too bad. Her morning was spent in Advanced British Literature, Psychology, Algebra II, and French IV… after lunch, she had Anatomy, Show Choir, and Theatre Arts. She'd been reluctant last year to sign up for theatre after giving acting up years ago, but in light of recent developments, she was glad she had picked it (if only because she had wanted an easy elective).

After the assembly ended, Valentine pushed through the crowds to get to Bronwyn, who seemed to be alone for the moment. "Bronwyn! Bronwyn, can I talk to you?" she called.

Bronwyn walked to the side of the hallway and waited. Though her body language was innocent enough, something in her face seemed hungry, as though she wanted to drink the blood from Valentine. Valentine could almost see fangs and gnarled, leathery bat wings on the girl. As Valentine caught up, she leaned in slightly. Were her eyes red? No, they were normal colors, albeit different colors altogether… one blue, one green. Valentine bit her lip and shifted her gaze towards the wall. If there was one thing that could make Bronwyn lose her cool, it was mention of her heterochromia. Though it looked neat, for some reason the student council president was sensitive about it, and almost everyone knew it.

A beat passed. Bronwyn's eyes narrowed. "What is it that you want?" she asked, and that was when Valentine realized she had gotten distracted.

Embarrassed, she cleared her throat and smiled sheepishly. "Um, uh. I wanted to ask about the crab from yesterday. What did you do with it? It's safe, right?"

Bronwyn's eyes practically burned holes into Valentine. "I did tell you I would take care of it, didn't I? Rest assured that I told the truth. I'm not lying about it."

"But she's okay, right? She's fine? Where did you put her? I'm just… I'm just wondering. Because a friend asked me." It wasn't untrue.

Tilting her head, Bronwyn frowned. There was a note of teenage cruelty to it. Valentine tried not to break eye contact, to show fear. Vampire queens thrived on fear. "If you must know, I handed it off to Odette Undergrove." Bronwyn paused, but when it became obvious that Valentine had no clue who that was, she continued. "The junior. Her parents run Undergrove Animal Rescue on Mechane Avenue. She seemed like the most apt person to take care of the problem."

"Odette Undergrove," Valentine repeated. She would have to remember that. "Okay! Thanks, Bronwyn! You're a big help!"

"Of course," said Bronwyn, and it sounded more like "Of course I am," than an acknowledgment.

Valentine grinned as she started off to her first class. Inside, she made a mental list. _At lunch, I'll try to find this Odette first. I bet if I ask nicely, she'll let me come visit her family's rescue. And if not, hey, Meisner's from some marvelous and magical acting planet, right? I bet she can fake being a wild fox or maned whatever for long enough for us to get into the rescue, find Konstantine, and get back out. And if that fails, hey, I'm some kind of magical girl superhero. If I show up as Cure Round and ask for the crab, what are they going to do, turn me down? I've got this in the bag!_

* * *

 _EYECATCH 1: Valentine twirls in a Romeo-esque outfit on a large proscenium stage. A bubble pops, and it's revealed she's been daydreaming in class. She smiles sheepishly as the logo appears._

 _EYECATCH 2: Cure Round does a deep bow and flourishes her Baton de Farce. Meisner falls on her head and Cure Round drops, obviously dizzy. The logo appears on screen with a cute musical fanfare._

* * *

It took about twenty-five people and ten minutes from lunch before Valentine managed to locate Odette Undergrove. Not many people seemed to know about this mysterious eleventh grade student. The few who did seemed surprised that Valentine would even ask. Finally, someone dropped Valentine a critical clue. "She's almost always with Robin Wesley, you know. Robin's kind of adopted her."

Robin Wesley was someone much easier to find. Also a junior, she was known around school for doing about as many activities that she could fit into her schedule. She was on the volleyball team with Carissa, in the school orchestra where she played the cello, was the president of the school yearbook committee and the school newspaper, and still managed to find time to volunteer and to study, as she was a confirmed member of the school honor society. There was no way that she _wasn't_ getting into the college of her choice. Universities were going to be practically climbing over each other to try to get to her, and everyone knew it.

The moment Valentine knew to ask, "Hey, where's Robin?" she was pointed to a round table in the corner of the cafeteria. Though the tables usually fit eight people comfortably, there were at least twelve crammed around this one. True to Robin, they ranged from the sporty girls to the obvious academics, each chatting with each other. Robin herself seemed to be managing to follow all of the three or four conversations going on, moving effortlessly from one to the other. Her dark eyes switched from person to person, almost alight with curiosity. Still, she did not neglect the one person at the table who was silent, her complete opposite who was sat right next to her. Robin's dark hand was placed upon this girl's pale white one. Valentine put two and two together. _Odette._

Everything about Odette was snow-pale. Her skin, her hair, even her uniform shirt looked crisp and bleached. She sat stiffly next to an animated Robin, her periwinkle eyes trained down on her sandwich and carton of milk. If Bronwyn was an ice queen, Odette was a snow princess. There were no hard edges to be found here, only softness, although there was still something cold and distant about this girl (at least for now). Or perhaps, considering her name, a swan princess was a better way to spin the story. Odette was shy and caught in some sort of curse to make her so tense… awaiting some tragedy that Valentine hoped would never happen. In some versions of Swan Lake, after all, Odette had a happy ending. Why couldn't this be one of them?

And happy endings often started with friends, didn't they?

Valentine walked up behind Robin and Odette. "Hi, how are you doing?" she asked with a big smile.

Everyone looked at her. Robin grinned. "Oh, hi, Valentine! We're a little cramped, but if you want to sit here, I can move over-"

"No need, I just had a question for Odette, actually."

Immediately the table quieted. Odette's eyes grew big, and she ducked her head nervously. "O-oh, I… um…"

"What do you need?" Robin cut in smoothly.

"Your parents run an animal rescue, right? Bronwyn told me. Could I maybe come in and see some of the animals? There's this, well, there's this crab, and she looks kind of funny, but she's really important to a friend of mine, and I think she ended up at your- uh, are you guys alright?" It took a moment for Valentine to register the faces of the people around her, glaring as though she had done something absolutely taboo. "Did I say something?"

"Since when do you talk to Bronwyn?" Robin's smile was almost forced. "Did she send you?"

"No, of course not. I mean, not usually. But she was the one who took the crab, and I really need to find it and-"

"She didn't give Odette a crab," Robin said firmly. Odette ducked her head even more, her white hair spilling over her shoulders and hiding her face. "I can't imagine Bronwyn giving Odette anything besides a hard time. I don't think you know that she's not as nice as she seems but look, we don't like to talk about her around here, okay?" Despite her words, she seemed impatient and a tad angry. Valentine shrunk into herself. It was as though she, the valiant hero prince, had accidentally set off a trap. The glares that the girls at the table gave her were like arrows that pierced her heart and killed her joy.

"Sorry," Valentine said, feeling a little stupid. "I didn't know that- I mean, I know she can be a real- I mean, sorry."

"It's okay," said a soft voice. Odette was peering up from out of her curtains of hair. "It's okay, really. I'm just being sensitive…"

Valentine frowned. "No, no, it's fine! Your feelings are totally valid, and it's really cool of everyone to be on board with that. I promise I'm not in cahoots with her or anything."

It was Robin who peered at Valentine, considering. After a moment, she nodded. "Yeah, sorry for jumping down your throat. Odette didn't talk to Bronwyn at all, though, obviously. You got bad information, Valentine. No, what was it, a crab? No crab here."

"Well, thanks," said Valentine with a sigh. She started to head for the other end of the cafeteria and her friends there, but not without a glance backwards at the other group. Odette's head was up a little bit, enough for Valentine to see that the girl's eyes were trained on her curiously. _She never said a word. I wonder…_

But what reason would she have to not correct Robin? Valentine shrugged and put the situation out of her head. She was back to square one, it seemed, but it was only the first day of looking for Konstantine. There was no reason to worry, or stress, or make up silly ideas in her head to explain other people's actions. She would just have to find another way of getting answers.

* * *

As soon as Valentine left the school grounds of Parados Academy, she unzipped her bag all the way and let Meisner pop out. The tiny fairy muse took a deep breath of fresh air. "It's cramped in there! And how can your supplies be so messy on the second day of school, anyway?" she demanded. "Did you clean out your bag at all over the summer?"

"I did, really! It's not my fault that there's all this paperwork on the first few days…"

Meisner huffed. "But you really could keep it all in a folder. Look at this one," she said, pulling out a video and photo recording permission form. It was already half crumpled into a ball. "Your mothers have to sign this! Couldn't you be more organized?"

Valentine closed her eyes briefly, trying to let her creative spirit whisk her away to a world where she was perfectly organized… she'd be a lawyer, or a president, or… nah. None of it was coming to her. "I can't even imagine it," she said with a shrug, taking the permission slip and shoving it into her slacks pocket.

With a sigh, Meisner climbed out of the bag and onto Valentine's shoulder. At first, Valentine wondered if she should insist that Meisner stay mostly hidden, but then she thought. If there was one thing she knew about Miracopolis, it was that it was one of those big cities where nothing was ever truly "weird." Every day when she walked to school, or when she got on the subway, she would see something plenty of people would stare at, but by the time she got where she was going, she'd have forgotten about it. That was just how the city worked. Nobody would do more than blink twice at a tiny golden maned wolf sitting on the shoulder of a girl in a private school uniform here.

"I hope that you don't have a lot of plans for the coming weeks," said Meisner. "We're going to need to plot our first moves. Now that I know you're a legendary actor, there's a lot of ideas I have to save the world."

"I'm always happy to help, Meisner. It's kind of my thing. But please tell me one of these ideas is "getting other people to also help," because saving the world is kind of a big deal and I'm not even old enough to vote yet, and that's about the smallest form of saving the world that a person can do."

"Well… if there were other Cure Costumes in our control, it would be easy… the other option is that I could create a Role Gem, but-"

"What's a Role Gem?"

"It's a little diamond-shaped magical item that shrine maidens of the Divine Playwrights can make every full moon. It gives people powers similar to the Pretty Cure, but not as powerful. If I had thought about it, I would have made one last night, but…"

Valentine groaned. "Oh yeah. The full moon was last night, wasn't it? That means I'm on my own for an entire month?"

"Not entirely! You have me, right?"

"No offense, Meis, but you're about a foot tall. You aren't exactly the most menacing, or up for an epic battle against an evil diva puppeteer."

Meisner huffed.

Valentine laughed at the sight of the little maned wolf, sitting on her shoulder and pouting. It was almost enough to distract her from the darkening sky, and a swirling black portal of smoke forming just outside of Pageant Park. Her laughter tapered off. "Oh no."

"Oh yes, dear," chuckled a hooded villain as he stepped out from the smoke. "I've come to reclaim what I've lost, little fairy muse… and annoying little legendary actor."

"Shadow? Again?" Valentine sighed. "I have got to stop taking this route home if the villains are going to attack me here every time."

Meisner shook her little head. "No, don't, Valentine! Isn't it better to be where the villains are? So that you can protect civilians?"

"I guess you're right," Valentine said, a little sigh ending the statement. "Well, nothing we can do about it now anyway. Here we go!" She unlinked the tiny golden charm of her bracelet, and in her hand it grew into a full-sized red mask, which she waved tauntingly at the Masked Player. "I won't let you blackout this scene, Shadow! _Pretty Cure! Endow my world_!" She placed the mask on her face as she began to transform, calling her next line as she moved: "With comedy and smiles, let's go! It's showtime!"

After a few moments, it was a more magical girl who stepped out on her heel and rested her hands on her hips in a proud pose. "A beacon of good cheer and fun times! Live on stage… enter, Cure Round!"

"Cure Round," sneered Shadow. "It's ever too bad my Ensomber couldn't manage to finish you off, but it was a weaker one, after all. No more than a distraction. We have ever so many tricks up our sleeves in the Gangrene Room. Lady Skene is a kind mistress to come up with all of these new toys for us to play with. Unfortunately, you'll only be seeing a few of them!"

He reached into his pocket and brought out a gem. The gem was diamond-shaped and black, and it did not seem to shine, but rather to eat the light around it, causing an odd, dark aura. "That's not a Cure Costume or a Dark Prop, he's right," said Meisner with a confused blink. "That's a… a… a…"

"A Role Gem," said Shadow proudly. "Created from magic and creativity to enable someone to become something or someone they aren't. Didn't you fairy muses start to create these centuries ago? On the full moon, right?"

"B-but a Role Gem looks like-"

"Oh, these are no ordinary Role Gems. These are the Role Gems created by Lady Skene. In all her power, she can make many at once, and anytime she wants, unlike you fairy muses. They're hardly rare anymore, and oh so fun to corrupt. They're just so perfect to make the actors of the World of Stages into the ideal antagonists!"

With a wild and wicked smile, he crushed the gem into black powder and blew it into the air. "Role Gem! Cue Ensomber!" he ordered.

The black dust flew in a curving, delicate line, carried on the wind. After a moment, it hit a rosebush that climbed up one of Pageant Park's ancient light posts. As the dust absorbed into it, Cure Round stared at it. After a moment, it jerked outwards, and two rosebuds opened to reveal eyes that were black and cruel. The rosevine… no… the Ensomber yanked its roots from the ground, and Cure Round saw that they were legs.

"Let's go, Meisner!" she said, and she jumped up and away from the now lunging rose monster, landing gracefully on another one of the light posts. Dramatically, she pointed at the Ensomber. "Flowers should be given at the end of the performance! They're not supposed to be given during the show! We'll show you proper theatre etiquette, o pained soul!"

On her shoulder, Meisner tried to stifle laughter. "You really should work on your dramatic speeches if you're going to give them."

"What? I thought that one was good!"

As Cure Round sulked slightly, the Ensomber whipped one of its vine-arms out. "Cure Round, look out!" cried Meisner, and Round barely managed to jump out of its reach in time. The Ensomber didn't hesitate before making another swipe with the same arm, then another, then another, another, another. The movement was almost rhythmic, and Cure Round felt extremely grateful for all of the musicals she had been in as a child. She knew just when to jump out of the way.

Shadow, for his part, seemed to be stewing. "Don't play _jump rope_ with her! Destroy her! Or capture her! Do something evil!" he yelled.

The Ensomber seemed to wilt for a moment before firming up. It moved both arm vines and a leg into the dance, which Cure Round was sure was unfair. She felt like she was moving faster than the speed of light trying to dodge it all. Just as she was sure she was going to tire out, it all stopped.

Then, with no warning, the Ensomber kicked her back.

Cure Round skid on the ground, five feet, ten, fifteen, twenty. A long line was made where the grass was stripped from her skidding. She winced in pain, though her first thought was _Hopefully, the magic of my costume means there can't be grass stains._

"Are you okay, Meisner?" she asked through grit teeth. The fairy muse was holding on, digging tiny claws into the padding on Cure Round's shoulders.

"Yes, are you?"

"I'm-"

"Now, Ensomber!" ordered Shadow.

The Ensomber waved its arms and shot thorns, dozens of them. They were gigantic. One by one, they started to land, sharp side down. Cure Round dodged each one until… "It's a trap!" said Meisner, too late. The giant thorns surrounded the two of them. Before she could jump out of the trap, a large leaf capped the thorns, creating a ceiling. Round jumped up and tried to punch it out of place, but the Ensomber leaned on it casually, keeping it down.

"Finish her off at your leisure, my monster," cackled Shadow. "Then wreak havoc. My work here is done… but have no worries, I'll check in later to get the fairy muse. Whatever you do to the heroine, don't ruin the Cure Costume, and don't let the shrine maiden escape!."

"Get back here, you!" Meisner said as he disappeared into a smoke portal without looking back. "Oh, Cure Round, this is terrible! What am I going to do?"

"We're going to get out of this. You're small enough to get through the bars. Shadow sure wasn't thinking that through, was he?"

As though it was listening… perhaps it was… the Ensomber stretched. Vines grew from its arms and wrapped around the giant thorns until the flowery cell was impossible to escape, though still easy to see through. Meisner shot Cure Round a fed up look. "Wonderful," she said sarcastically.

Cure Round paced back and forth. "No worries, we'll get out of this," she said. "We're going to get a chance to escape. The Ensomber's going to have to try to kill me eventually. Wow. I really don't like thinking about that."

"What do we do?"

"I don't know, Meis, I-"

"Villain of flowers and heartbreak, I hear your sorrow. I will free you from the misery that was sprinkled upon you!"

"Huh?" said Meisner and Cure Round together.

They looked around for the voice, finding it through the cracks in the prison when it spoke again, light and delicate sounding. "To make a flower ugly is the hardest and most reprehensible thing that one can do!"

"Whoa, who is that?" said Cure Round, looking at the speaker.

The girl had the palest skin and hair, white as snow. Her eyes were red-pink and shone in the light. She wore a dress of white and pink feathers and frills… it was almost too busy, but not quite. Everything about her screamed lovely, except perhaps the determined frown on her face. "A curse against evil that dances in aeternum! I am White Swan!" she cried. Her voice sounded oddly familiar, but there was a layer of distortion to it, or perhaps more of a haze. Try as she might, Cure Round couldn't quite place who the voice might belong to.

"Another Pretty Cure?" Cure Round asked Meisner, looking down with curiosity in her eyes.

Meisner shook her head. "No… she's something else… a heroine who emerged from an uncorrupted Role Gem. A real Role Gem... hopefully that means that Konstantine…"

"Let's go! May I have this lovely dance, o villain of roses?" cried the girl. She darted forward with supernatural speed and began to punch and kick. Where Cure Round had been mainly on the defensive, caught off guard, this heroine seemed to take a more direct approach. It was the Ensomber who was caught off guard this time. If one could lose a dance, the monster certainly was. Though it struggled to keep up, it slowly failed. Hit after hit connected, kick after punch after pummel. Then, gracefully and ever a dancer, this heroine White Swan kicked her leg up so high that her knee nearly met her nose, sending the Ensomber toppling backwards.

"Ensomber!" it cried out.

White Swan did not truly smile, but the hint of such an expression played on her face. "Emerge from my dreams," she said, her voice a low order. " _Lame d'élégance!"_ In her hand appeared a bone-white rapier that sparkled like the stars. "Fortissimo Reverence!"

With a twirl and a flourish, she aimed it at the Ensomber and seemed to be trying to pierce its heart. However, at the last second, the weapon stopped, merely tapping the monster instead. Thousands of tiny pink and white hearts emerged from the blade and enveloped the Ensomber into what was nearly a hug. As the monster cried "Bravo!" the heroine showed off a deep curtsey, and by the time she rose, the battle was over.

The thorns around Cure Round and Meisner faded as the flower curled back into its normal, tiny form around a different lamp post- hopefully, no one would notice that, or the giant grassless streak in the park, or the many holes in the ground from where the giant thorns had once pierced. As they dusted themselves off, White Swan watched impassively.

Round ran up to her as soon as she felt presentable. "You're a heroine too?" she said. "I didn't know there was anyone but me! This is great! How did you become a hero? Do you know Konstantine? The little tiny red crab? Are you-"

"No questions. Please. This is a- a secret identity. I'm not going to let you get too close, so don't even try," said White Swan, taking a step back. Her eyes were guarded, her expression firm.

"But we're on the same side? We're both fighting the Ensombers, right? Do you know about the Masked Players and Lady Skene?" pressed Round. "Do you know about the Cure Costumes? Have you seen one? What are the Role Gems like? Do you know how they can become corrupt-"

"I said no questions, please. I have to go. You should improve your fighting; I may not be able to rescue you next time." White Swan hesitated, then nodded politely. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Cure Round. I will not work with you, but it is a comfort to know I'm not alone. Not fully, anyway."

"Do you know that makes no sense at all?" Cure Round threw her hands up in the air, her eyes searching the sky as though an answer would fall out of it. "Won't work with me? But you don't want to be alone-"

She stopped suddenly at a sound of moving air. Her eyes went downwards, only to find that White Swan was gone. In the distance, her tiny figure moved through the city rapidly. It took only seconds until she was out of sight.

* * *

Valentine paced rapidly around her room. "There's too many mysteries. What will the Masked Players do next? Where is Konstantine? Who is White Swan? Meisner, how am I supposed to solve this? I'm barely able to keep my school schedule in order, let alone save the world single handed!" With a groan, she flopped onto her bed. "I'm doomed. I'm going to dieeeeeee…"

"You're being over dramatic."

"But I'm a legendary actor, so it's okay. I'm supposed to be dramatic."

Meisner sighed. "Come on, cheer up. It's not as hopeless as you think. Whether or not this new heroine is on our team, she's certainly on our side. That should count for something until we can recover more Cure Costumes. Shouldn't it?"

"I guess…" It didn't make her feel much better. Who could the mysterious hero even be? She knew that the voice was familiar…

"I know what will make you feel better. Music. Performing arts always cheer me up," Meisner said. Her little voice was decided.

Valentine raised her head up enough to see the tiny fairy muse climb from the bed onto Valentine's end table and use her tiny paws to turn the volume up on her clock radio. The station playing was the local college radio station, Valentine's personal favorite due to the wide variety and the sense of humor that the DJs had. Even now, one of them seemed to be deep in a one-sided conversation. " _Not that we do a lot of news here at WSHN, but it's the beginning of the semester and we're already staring out the window more than concentrating on classes apparently, and someone noticed something interesting. Apparently, two mysterious women in costume have been walking the streets of Miracopolis… and they can fly, or something. Thanks for the anonymous tip, but whoever sent that in, maybe next time throw us a few pictures or something as proof? Oh right. This is the radio. Well, we'll put them up on our website, or something."_

" _Ahem. Anyway, we've got more of your favorites, both local and national on tap this afternoon, starting with some Rebecca Walker and the Flash. Later, we've got Doramaid and our very own White Swan. You're listening to the Procrastination Station here on WSHN 101.6 FM."_

Meisner and Valentine looked at each other as the music began. "Could that be the same-"

"How many people are going by the name White Swan?" Valentine asked. "It's not that common."

"Which means that the pop star could be the hero."

"And that the hero could be someone I know. Or at least, someone who's voice I've heard."

"So that narrows it down."

"To my entire school, my entire family, everyone from my mom's theater who I've met, every cashier I've ever talked to at a store, and all of the WSHN DJs."

The two of them looked at each other. Then, they burst out laughing. "Well," said Meisner, "it's not much, but it's a start. We'll meet her again for sure. I know it. And then, maybe we can figure it out and get some answers. Even just knowing where Konstantine is would be a start, right?"

Valentine nodded. "I'm sure she's fine. White Swan seemed nice, just a little skittish. And if she's hiding a secret this big, who wouldn't be?"

"Right. For now, let's put it out of our minds. That DJ reminded me, Valentine. Procrastination isn't good, do you have any homework besides getting those papers signed?"

"What are you, my mom? I don't need a third one!"

* * *

In the Gangrene Room, the Masked Players gathered around their table. Sitting in the middle was what almost seemed to be a gacha machine, though it was black, grey, and red. Inside, a number of black and diamond shaped gems seemed to fester. Artu smiled under his tragedy mask, even as Shadow hung his head. "Don't think of it as a failure, dear friend," he said. "The more of those pesky little heroes we lure out early, the easier it will be later on."

"To destroy them?" asked Madam Dangerfield.

"Unlikely. Lady Skene wants us to convert them. What kind of a show we can put on with four actors… imagine if the company had six!" Artu's smile grew. "Dear Shadow, you've far from failed, truly. Perhaps you can even lure out more with these delightful Role Gems."

"Maybe we could fully cast a musical," joked Pandora. "A symphony of actors who want the world to know their name."

When Shadow remained quiet, Artu frowned. "It must be a dent on your pride. Perhaps it is time to call in an understudy. Pandora, why don't you take the next mission and snuff those antagonists who call themselves the legendary actors out? We'll show them who the true legendary actors are. I would do it myself, but I need to remain here to keep the fairy muses in line. Do you know I caught the new one trying to summon the Divine Playwrights for help?"

"They won't come," said Madam Dangerfield.

"Of course not, but I'd hate to see what else she thinks up. Whether or not they're in cages, having six fairy muses under one roof could be a problem. But Lady Skene insists, and she is the director…"

"It makes one worry about having all eight together," said Pandora."

"Oh, on the contrary. Once all eight have gathered, we can truly begin Lady Skene's grand plan. I'm not worried about that at all."

* * *

 _ED: Happiness Smile Objective_

* * *

MEISNER: And now, it's time for the theatre term of the episode! Today, we're going to learn about the term "break a leg."

VALENTINE: Which is fitting, because people tell actors that all the time, and as legendary actor Cure Round, sometimes I get to do it to the monsters!

MEISNER: In theatre, it's considered bad luck to tell a performer "good luck." Instead, we say "break a leg." Nobody for sure knows the definite origin of the term… one legend says it refers to bowing and stretching your legs as you complete a show successfully. Another says it hails from the days when you only got paid if you appeared on the stage… aka, past the "legs" of the curtains, aka "breaking the legs." There are other legends, too. Whatever the truth, it's considered common courtesy to say this instead of good luck.

WHITE SWAN: Dancers (and some people in musicals) do this too, but instead of "break a leg," they say-

MEISNER: A certain French word we're not going to say on the air because it means something that is not suitable for family entertainment!

VALENTINE: Wow! There's lots to learn about the world of performance. Tune in next episode for another adventure and another theatre term! Bye!

* * *

WHITE SWAN: Now that I've made my debut as a heroine, it's time for me to show up as a pop star.

MEISNER: This could be our best chance to talk to her. Come on, Valentine!

VALENTINE: What? A concert? Sounds fun, count me in!

MEISNER: Hey, this is official Precure business, not just a fun night out. Let's act like it!

VALENTINE: No problem, acting is what I do best. Next time on Pretty Cure Perfect Stage… "Lights Up! A Late Summer Night's Dream!"

MEISNER: We'll put on a dreamy show just for you!


End file.
